


Grace on Camera

by samsg1



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Episode: s07e13 Grace, F/M, Sam and Jack Ship Day 2020 (Stargate), Unresolved Sexual Tension, samjackshipday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25277164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsg1/pseuds/samsg1
Summary: Jack's POV as he watches Carter's ship logs of her time aboard the Prometheus in Grace as he tries to piece together what caused her to bolt.Written for Sam and Jack Ship Day 2020Prompt: "Empty"
Relationships: Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill, Samantha "Sam" Carter/Pete Shanahan
Comments: 44
Kudos: 67





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I want to give credit to the Spanish author on fanfiction.net Andrea Martinez2 for her recent story about Sam running away after Grace that inspired me to write this.
> 
> Second of all, the Sam and Jack Ship Day challenge set by /u/wackyjacqs triggered me to actually make the time to write down the story.  
> Prompt: "Empty"
> 
> A/N No beta, all mistakes are my own.  
> This fanfiction begins with much of the initial narrative taken directly from the episode itself, with some of my own additions and minor tweaks to the events on the ship inserted.

_*Buzz*_

Jack’s beer sloshes out the bottleneck spectacularly in his effort to grab the phone balanced on the couch arm. His attempt to save the rest of the precious liquid results in a clatter as the phone hits the wooden floor, falling face up. His eyes widen as they catch the beginning of the text message laid out across the screen.

_“CARTER”_  
_“Hi Sir, so sorry for not messaging you back all week. I’m on my way back after stopping in Denv-”_

Heart finally quelled, he decides to nurse the rest of his beer, noticing and savouring its comforting, bitter taste for the first time this week.

**5 days ago**

“This is Major Samantha Carter of the United States Air Force vessel Prometheus. As the sole remaining crew member of this ship I feel compelled to keep a log of these events.” Jack watched as she looked downwards and drew a deep breath. The bright bridge lights highlighted her head injury, dried blood visibly crusted onto her forehead. 

“After being attacked by a hostile alien ship, I sustained an injury and lost consciousness. When I awoke, I found the ship devoid of all crew.” 

He watched as she spoke with calm professionalism, her soldier mask rigidly on, but he knew her well. He guessed she must have been terrified to have woken up and found herself on an empty ship, alone.

“An initial systems review indicated the hyperdrive to be operational, but the sub-light engines remain offline, possibly due to damage from the attack. I am hopeful further investigation will provide more answers. However my first priority is finding out what happened to the crew. Having searched the entire ship and found no one, only one possibility remains to explain their disappearance. Based on the fact that all the escape pods have been jettisoned, I can only assume an evacuation order was given after my losing consciousness. In the chaos that must have ensued, I was left behind.”  


Dammit Ronson, how could you leave Carter behind!? Lucky for you of course, it had turned out to be the blunder that had saved you all. He’d certainly have words to say to the man the next time they met, though. You don’t leave behind the biggest asset you have on your friggin’ ship!

“The sub-light engines remain offline. I'm guessing something about the gas cloud is inhibiting the restart procedures. Thus far I have been unable to find a way around this problem. Without sub-light engine power to manoeuvre the ship out of the cloud I'm left with only one other option.”

He watched as she drew another deep, and somewhat shaky breath, then looked directly into the camera with that signature ‘determined Carter’ look on her face.

“Opening a hyperspace window inside a nebula remains untested, and previous simulations have shown it likely has its risks, but nevertheless I’m about to give it a try. Carter out,” and the monitor cut to black for a period of seconds, displaying his own concerned reflection staring back. 

“Well we know that didn’t work,” Jack supplied confidently to the other men in the briefing room watching the now black screen.

“No kidding,” said Daniel, as the monitor flashed back to life and Sam’s face reappeared, looking more dishevelled.

“As expected the hyperdrive was unable to form a stable window inside the nebula. I have sent out a distress signal detailing Prometheus' situation and our last known position in space. I know it could be hundreds of years before anyone hears it.” 

‘If anyone knew that, it would be her,’ he thought to himself. 

“That said,” her voice continued in a more positive tone, “Stargate Command was aware of our route home, and will undoubtedly do everything they can to mount a rescue-”

“Damn right we did, Carter,” Jack said, receiving nods in reply from the other men, all eyes still fixed on the screen.

“-and, if any of the crew survived, I can only hope they will eventually send help as well. Therefore, I feel my best course of action is to settle in for the long haul. After doing some further simulations on the hyperdrive window, I plan to take an inventory of all the preserved food and MREs we have aboard. Carter out.”

“Good thing you weren’t aboard Teal’c,” Jack said cheerily. “How would you have resisted eating another six pints of Ben & Jerry’s like last time?” 

Teal’c’s eyebrow raise and Daniel and the General’s confused looks were enough to satisfy him.

The monitor flickered back to life and Sam’s face reappeared. She looked considerably wearier than the last log. The timestamp on the bottom of the screen indicated that more than eighteen hours had passed since the previous entry.

“According to my calculations I have enough food and water to last several months. With further rationing, it might be possible to double that.”

Jack couldn’t resist giving a wink at Teal’c, who gave a slow eye roll. 

“I've been trying to understand why the ship has been unable to jump into hyperspace. During my last jump attempt the hyperspace window seemed unable to stabilise enough for the ship to enter it. Thus far sensors have been unable to identify the actual content of the cloud itself. It's more likely made up of a denser group of gases than that of a typical nebula or gas giant. Bottom line is, it's preventing the hyperdrive emitters from transferring power at an even rate. Until that changes, the Prometheus will remain trapped here, indefinitely.”

He watched as she stared straight into the camera. He could see the exhaustion in her eyes. And what could possibly be hope fading from those beautiful blues. He saw as she cupped her face in both her hands in what he realised was pain as she began rubbing her forehead rhythmically. He knew that routine of hers. She’d grimace quietly, suffering silently through pain, but if you were to ask her if she was okay she’d always automatically reply with a strong “Fine, Sir,” even when she wasn’t. And she definitely didn’t look fine on-screen right now. 

“I've been trying to understand why the ship has been unable to jump into hyperspace. The sensors…,” she trailed, then buried her face in her hands again.

He sat up straighter in his chair, feeling confused.

“Déjà vu… didn’t she just say that?”

He watched as she sighed, gave a confused look, then took a deep breath.

“As a result of my head injury I am finding it difficult to focus on tasks,” Carter’s muffled voice came, solving his confusion, her head still hidden in her hands.

It wasn’t very often that he heard Carter complain about any symptoms she was having let alone her admitting she was having difficulty with anything. Daniel met his eyes, his brows furrowed with concern for their teammate, and he could tell he was thinking the exact same thing.

“I’m constantly light-headed, nauseous, and I have lost consciousness and vomited several times. I’m beginning to grow concerned that without medical treatment my concussion will continue to worsen making it less and less likely that-” she stopped suddenly, looking towards her right for some time. Then a few seconds later she returned her attention to the recording.

“I can only hope that in the meantime rescue will find me-,” she attempted to continue, but he saw as her expression suddenly switched to one of annoyance, and her eyes darted to her right at that unseen fixed point off-screen and back.

They watched in silence as her expression returned to neutral in an instant, and she unwrapped a power bar, took a large bite and began to chew slowly.

“Urm, as much as I enjoy watching Carter stuff her face, what the hell is going on?”

“I believe Major Carter’s head injury is causing lapses in her memory function,” Teal’c postulated.

Carter took another bite out of her bar and picked up a pencil and began writing, apparently oblivious to the fact that the ship was still recording her log. 

“Urm, fast- forward General?” Jack suggested before Sam’s head snapped to attention looking thoroughly irritated.

“Were you this annoying when you were ascended?” she barked towards her right again.

All men in the room looked at each other in complete confusion. 

“No offence, but I really don't have time for this,” Carter said to apparently no one, staring down at her paper again, then irritatedly scratched out what she must have previously written.

“Who do you think she’s talking to?” Daniel pondered aloud, to no answer. All men’s attentions were firmly fixed on the screen.

“Daniel, seriously, will you shut the hell up and leave me alone?!” Carter’s recorded voice yelled. 

“Never mind,” said Daniel quietly, sinking into his chair.

Then Jack saw as her eyes met the camera. “Oh shit,” she said, and with the push of a button the screen turned off. 

“Wow that concussion really messed her up,” said Jack. “And did she just say ‘shit’?”

“Does anyone feel that we’re weirdly invading her privacy by watching this?” Daniel asked.

“You’re welcome to leave Doctor Jackson,” Hammond said, waving his arm towards the winding metal staircase.

“No, I’m good,” he said, clutching the arm rests of his chair indicating his intention to stay seated.

A silence fell over the men and the General hit the pause on the remote to allow them time to process what they’d seen.

“She handed in her leave request so fast,” he said finally. “I’ve never seen such a short mission report from her either. She writes more detail about standard recon missions. She was so unlike herself when she came to my office a couple of days ago. I should have questioned whether she was fit to leave.”

“But Frasier cleared her to leave,” Jack countered, wanting to reassure the General. Jack, too, felt guilty for not intervening in Carter’s ‘off-behaviour’. Her behaviour had been so… un-Carter. Too quiet, solemn, deflecting questions. And she’d woken up in that bed and called him “Jack” for cryin’ out loud. He’d replayed that initial moment so many times in his head since then and each time he’d regretted shutting her down. 

_“Excuse me?”_

What a stupid thing to have said. She wouldn’t have been out of line to have said the same thing back to him. She’d been disorientated, confused, had had the concussion of a lifetime, of course she was bound to spout some odd things. What if his reaction to her when she’d woken up had pushed her away? What if he was in part responsible for her odd behaviour and uncharacteristic departure?

“Yes, Doctor Frasier confirms that physically she was fit to sign out and go home.”

“Hmmm,” was all he could supply, they were all clearly thinking that mentally something had happened onboard that ship that had affected her. 

“Let’s keep watching and hope we can get some more insight into her experiences aboard the ship. Something she left out of the report,” and the General hit the play button on the remote.

“You said the report was less than a page long, Sir.”

“Exactly.”

The monitor flickered to life again.

“Ship's log update,” came Sam’s voice. It had a heavy, serious tone, in stark contrast to the previous, more dazed voice. Jack looked at the timestamp to see that more than a day and a half had passed since the previous update. The passage of time showed on her face. She looked paler and weakened. His heart ached to see her like this.

“I have discovered that several sections of the hull are being corroded by the gases that make up this cloud.” Her speech was slowed, as though speaking required a lot of effort. He noticed that she was almost panting between sentences. “Although I have boosted whatever power I can to our shields, it has had little effect on protecting the ship. I sealed off those sections affected by the corrosion, but it's only a stop gap measure. All I know for certain is, if I can't find a way to stop it from spreading, the ship's hull will eventually be breached.” She glanced to the side, presumably a monitor. “The current estimated time for inner hull breach is just under seven hours. I…” she began, sighing in exhaustion. “I don’t know what to do right now,” she confessed. She rubbed at her forehead, grimacing in obvious discomfort. After a moment’s pause, she finished with, “Carter out.”

A silence fell over the room, all men enveloped in their thoughts.

“Wow, in seven years I’ve never heard Sam sound like she’s giving up,” said Daniel eventually.

“Indeed,” answered Teal’c, tilting his head back in is typical gesture of agreement.

“Obviously with hindsight we know that she does eventually think of something but I can’t imagine what she was feeling at this point,” said Hammond.

Jack could. He didn’t know why but his mind was taking him back to that cell in Ba’al’s damn fortress last year. He remembered that feeling of despair and hopelessness of never being found. No rescue, no escape, just an empty feeling waiting for the end. Funnily enough, just like Carter he’d imagined seeing Daniel then, too. He wondered if she’d thrown a shoe at her imaginary Daniel too, he thought to himself with a chuckle.

The video came back on; a little over three hours had apparently passed since the previous recording.

“The effects of my head injury are getting worse,” she panted. “I'm not sure how much longer I can last.”

Jack observed that she looked terrible. Eyes unfocused, slurred speech. He wished he’d been able to do something to have helped her. Searching planet after damn planet one by one, failing to find the Prometheus himself. He’d been so helpless and had let her down. So utterly useless. The guilt still ate at him even knowing she’d managed to get herself back alive. 

“My only hope of survival is to somehow get the Prometheus free of this gas cloud without using either the sub-light or hyperdrive engines.” She looked directly into the camera lens and gave a smile. “I think I've come up with a way.”

“Yes, come on Carter!” Jack whooped, punching the air. His commanding officer met his eyes with disapproval.

“This isn’t a hockey game, Colonel,” the General admonished.

“Sorry, Sir.”

“It has its risks,” Carter’s voice continued on, with great effort. “But I think it’s still worth a shot. If I do nothing, at the current rate of degradation the hull will implode in-” she looks to the side to check the monitor- “around three hours.” She seemed to gather some strength from her plan as her speech picked up in pace. He admired Carter when she was in her fix-it mode. If anyone could figure her way out of a sciency pickle, it was her. “By venting several levels worth of pressurized atmosphere I am hoping to generate enough propulsion to move the ship.” She looks straight into the camera. “Wish me luck, Carter out.”

“Good luck, Sam,” whispered Daniel to the monitor.

Jack had already read her short report and knew it would fail, but he couldn’t help but wish her luck too. He didn’t think his heart could take seeing her face of failure on the next ship’s log.

But of course, true to her report, a few seconds later the video returned displaying a completely crest-fallen-looking Carter. Along with it was the blaring sound of the Prometheus’ alarms causing all the men in the room to jump at the sudden noise, and a surprised Walter to come jogging up the stairs in concern.

“At ease, Sergeant, it’s just a video,” said Hammond assuredly, dismissing him and turning down the volume of the playback with the remote.

“Inner hull breech in less than ten minutes,” came Carter’s quiet voice. And true enough, Jack saw that the timestamp indicated that another three hours had passed since the previous log. He wondered what she had been doing between the recordings. Frantically scribbling down super math formulas? Doing that frantic keyboard tapping that she always does in these situations running diagnoses and programs and whatever technobabbly stuff that always worked? Or, perhaps, had she been lying on the floor passed out from her head injury somewhere? His mind conjured a scenario where she’d been laying unconscious while the alarms had blared as the ship was ripped apart and imagined her being sucked into space never even knowing her own life had even ended. He himself wouldn’t have ever known what had happened to her either. He couldn’t imagine how he could have ever gone on to live his life without that kind of closure. Come to think of it he didn’t think he could even live his life without her in it at all...

“I looked at this nebula through a telescope for years,” her strangely whimsical voice interrupted him from his dark thoughts. “And now I’m here.” He couldn’t believe she was even smiling when she was minutes from death. The shining red alarm lights flashed on and off making her skin glow. Here she was facing death and she had such beauty. There was a sense of ethereal calm and acceptance. He was transfixed by her image of grace on camera.

“Some nebulae become nurseries for future stars. I’d like to think that my matter might live on powering a future star. I think I’d like that ending.” Fitting, thought Jack. Her brilliance certainly deserved to shine on for almost forever. He’d always thought her beautiful smile and eyes were brighter than the stars she always looked at off-world. He’d always loved the way she looked at the night skies in wonder, in constant child-like awe. It often reminded him of looking through the telescope with Charlie when he was little. 

He saw as her eyes rolled and her head nodded forward before she caught herself, jolting upright.

“I know, Teal’c,” she murmured. “I just can’t stay awake.”

Then he saw as she startled and straightened up in the chair. 

“I’m sorry, I’m trying,” she said to apparently noone and sniffed. “Thank you for being here with me.”

The real Teal’c sat opposite Jack sniffed too, and wiped a tear from his eye.

“Teal’c are you crying?” said Jack incredulously, calling out his friend in an effort to hide the genuine pain and heartbreak he himself was feeling inside.

The alarms of the Prometheus were blaring as fast as his own heart was hammering. He felt as though his own body was on red alert. As though his own hull was going to be breeched. He was watching Carter die and he felt so helpless. His brain knew from hindsight that she wouldn’t, but it just seemed so bleak and his heart was being torn apart by the footage. He felt sick.

The ship gave a loud rumble and Carter’s form shook in her chair. He almost didn’t hear her whisper:

“Why do we always wait until it’s too late to tell people how we really feel about them?”

There was a long pause, and her next words were barely audible above another rumbling of the Prometheus, the alarms, and the pounding of Jack’s own heart in his ears.

“I hope the Colonel-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mwahahah yes I did just leave it there! Yes I am cruel! Hold on shippers, there will be more to come!! But will it be a happy ending...?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, brace yourselves shippers...

_Previously:_

He almost couldn’t hear her whisper.

“Why do we always wait until it’s too late to tell people how we really feel about them?”

There was a long pause, broken only by another rumbling of the Prometheus and the pounding of Jack’s own heart.

“I hope the Colonel-” 

\---------------------------

She snapped back to dodge as static sparks rained down on her from overloading electrical circuits overhead. The ship gave a magnificent lurch, throwing her out of her seat off-screen below.

“What do you want?!” Carter’s voice was heard imploring with the seemingly empty bridge, before she could be seen hauling herself up using the chair as support, her back turned to the camera. 

_“I hope the Colonel-”_ he recalled her words. He wondered if she could possibly have been referring to him when she’d caught her whisper before she’d been cut off. Of course, he rationalized to himself, she’d had a majorly banged up head injury, of course it couldn’t have meant anything, right? 

Her voice had been so weak and quiet, and he was the one sitting closest to the monitor. He looked around the room; if any of the other men had heard her words and had had any suspicions they weren’t letting on. Their expressions were merely those of concern for Carter and the imminent destruction of the Prometheus. Jack followed their stern gazes back to the screen. Carter still had her back turned to the camera and was staggering towards the middle of the bridge.

“Whoever you are, I know why everyone else keeps showing up. Why are you here?” She shouted in desperation. “What do you want from me?”

Jack didn’t know if she thought she was talking to the ship, or the nebula thing, or another hallucination, but either way it was absolutely heart-wrenching for him to see his ever-strong Carter pleading like this so near her end.

He watched on as she stopped mid-step, then suddenly began to make her way across the bridge with seeming purpose before stumbling on her way as the ship gave another shake, her fall almost making her leave the camera’s view. With a pang he was suddenly overwhelmed with fear. No, _desperation_. An insatiable desperate feeling that didn’t want her to leave. He didn’t want her out of his sight. He was terrified and absolutely certain that if she left now he would never see her again. The ship would disintegrate in minutes- five to be precise if his calculations were correct- and he’d never know what happened to her. That was until the logic part of his brain kicked in and reminded him that she was alive and well on Earth. Well, presumably. Wherever she was. 

With seemingly great effort he saw as she picked herself up off the bridge floor, and as she finally exited their view his heart was filled with agony and anguish. What could possibly happen in the next few minutes that could save her? Had she really even come back to Earth? Had it all been some messed up dream? He desperately wished he knew where the real Carter was. If she was okay. What was going through that brain of hers. When she’d come back. He just wanted to hold her and know that she was real. That she was alive.

“Any ideas what happened just there?” asked Hammond, breaking his train of thought. “How did she get the inspiration for the idea about the sub-space bubble as written in her report?” 

“General, I can’t even begin to follow Carter’s brain at the best of times, let alone a crazy, concussed Carter brain,” answered Jack, pleased he could still come out with such a quip when his insides were filled with nothing but panic and anxiety. He always was good at masking misery with humour, he thought.

A hum could be heard from the footage; it sounded as though the Prometheus engines were powering up.

“Look, she’s back!” shouted Daniel moments later, practically jumping out of his chair in excitement pointing at the screen. And so she was, bloodstained, exhausted, pale, he didn’t care. Carter was doing what she did best- saving the day in the nick of time- and he couldn’t help but stare at her thinking that she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

They watched as she worked fast, stumbling from each console hitting the right buttons before taking the commander’s chair. She sank into the chair in seeming relief, as though she was barely able to stand anymore. With a push of some more buttons on the side arm, off went the ringing alarms- thank goodness, they hadn’t been helping his anxiety levels- and Jack now noticed that the ship had stilled. He guessed that she had somehow staved off the implosion by activating the engines, or something. He’d have to ask her, assuming they ever told her they’d seen this footage. Like Daniel had said, it did in fact feel weirdly like they were invading her privacy. Like this was a side of Carter he wasn’t supposed to have seen. Vulnerable, emotional, weak. Yet while it had been heart-breaking for him to have been granted this glimpse through her military mask and seen the suffering she’d worked so hard to hide after her return, he couldn’t stop his heart from yearning for her all the more. He just wanted to hold her in his arms and make sure she was never lost and alone again, ever.

He watched on as she hit some switches on the chair arm.

“This is Major Samantha Carter of the US Air Force vessel Prometheus. Can you hear me?” She seemed to be mustering as much strength as she could into her voice. He watched as she waited a few moments for a response, but there was nothing to be heard but static. He saw her hit the communication button again.

“I'm thinking you've been stuck in here just as long as I have. The only difference is, I've found a way out.”

“Hell yeah, you did!” Jack couldn’t help but shout out, banging his fist on the table in triumph. Meeting Hammond’s eyes, he readied an apology but the General merely smiled.

“She truly is one hell of a resourceful soldier,” he said proudly.

“Indeed she is,” Teal’c added fondly.

“Way to go Sam!” Daniel cheered.

“Here's the deal, return my crew, everyone, intact and let us go. And I'll help you get out of here. Do we have a deal?” she demanded.

All Jack could do was just stare and admire her. Here she was, beyond exhausted, clinging to consciousness, all alone on an empty spaceship, having faced impossible odds and had a brush with death, and then she goes and out-sciences a bunch of alien kidnappers and sits in the commander’s chair making demands like that. By god command suited her. Sitting there in complete control after everything had been falling apart moments ago. He was just awash with total respect for her. No, not just respect, he realized. Love for her. He became aware that he was completely overwhelmed with feelings of love for her. He supposed he had been for years, though he’d done his best to deny it until now. But watching her like this had knocked down all the barriers he’d carefully built up all this time. A giddy desire arose in him to run out the briefing room and get in his truck and track her down and tell her how he felt _right now_. He recalled that she’d called him Jack in the infirmary when she’d woken up, and she’d wanted to say something on the recording about him… could it be? Did she feel the same way, too?

A flash of light brightened the monitor, reigning in his thoughts, and the crew instantaneously appeared on the deck.

“Yes!! Carter did it!” Jack couldn’t help but clap and cheer, and Daniel joined in. Hammond and Teal’c nodded approvingly.

“What the hell just happened?” he heard Colonel Ronson ask of her, still sitting in his chair. 

‘She only went and saved all your asses after you went and left her behind, that’s what happened,’ he thought to himself.

“It's a long story, Sir,” she replied to him, getting up out of his chair with a great effort to move to a different control station almost off-screen. “Just bear with me,” she panted. “I'm activating a hyperspace bubble to include the alien vessel. We're going to bring it with us, out of the cloud.”

“Major?” Ronson questioned her. Jack could understand Ronson’s confusion, but if you have even half a brain cell, he thought to himself, you stand back and let Carter do her job.

“I'll explain everything soon enough, Sir,” she said hurriedly, breathing more heavily and grimacing in apparent pain again as she hit more buttons. She looked like she was struggling to stay conscious again.

The hum of the engines rang again and he watched as the crew looked out towards what would be the main window out of shot.

“Now what?” he saw Ronson ask aloud.

“We see if they keep their end of the bargain,” Carter answered weakly.

He observed as both Carter and Ronson made a sigh of relief in unison watching the main screen. Jack guessed they’d seen the alien ship leave without a fight.

“Well done, Major.” Carter nodded with great effort.

“Sir, with your permission I'd like to relieve myself of duty now.”

“Easy,” Ronson said kindly. “Get her to the infirmary,” he ordered and two officers helped her out of the chair and supported her as they walked her slowly off the bridge. Just before they disappeared off-screen he saw as Carter collapsed, and there was a scramble of people to assist carrying her out of view.

The General paused the video, looking pensive.

“According to Colonel Ronson’s report she remained unconscious the entire flight home until she woke up here. What do you all make of what you’ve just seen? As you know Major Carter’s report was clearly incomplete. She didn’t even mention having hallucinations.”

“Yeah Frasier’s not going to be happy to find that out,” murmured Jack.

“Do you think she was ashamed? Or confused?” pondered Daniel.

“Perhaps Major Carter is missing certain memories and details concerning her experiences aboard the Prometheus due to her injury. Perhaps she merely forgot?” postulated Teal’c.

Jack had to agree, it wasn’t like Carter to deliberately skip something in the post-mission check up. She’d said it had felt like weeks for her on board. Clearly her recollection wasn’t up to scratch. With a jolt he wondered if she would even remember possibly talking about him on record, or calling him by his first name when she’d woken up. He guessed it was probably a good thing if she didn’t, anyway.

“Major Carter has never to date requested leave except for when Jacob was visiting. Not even for Christmas or Cassandra’s birthday. Her phone’s been switched off, which again is unusual, so we couldn’t get a hold of her yesterday when we had that issue with the uneven gate power supply-”

“Yeah, I heard Siler complaining it was taking them at least three times as long to get it sorted without her help,” Jack interrupted.

“She’s not at home,” the General continued. “And you said her bike’s gone- against Doctor Frasier’s advice regarding driving, I might add- and she didn’t say anything to any of you about taking a leave of absence?”

“Not a word, Sir,” Jack confirmed.

“It’s not like Sam, of course, to have not even said anything to any of us but maybe she just needs time to process what happened to her on the ship?” Daniel supplied. “There are huge gaps between her logs, too, there’s probably more to what we saw on-screen. When is she due back, General?”

“Well, over seven years she’d managed to accrue a substantial amount of leave. I allowed her three weeks.”

“And she didn’t tell you her plans when she submitted it?”

“Honestly I was so taken off guard by her request I didn’t think to ask,” the General admitted.

When it was clear none of them had anything to add, they were dismissed by the General and ordered to report back if or when they had any news or theories.

Later, alone at home Jack couldn’t stop thinking about the footage he’d seen. Seeing her in such pain, struggling alone on that empty ship, without the support of the rest of SG-1. Without _his_ support. He felt regret at not going with her on the mission to bring the Prometheus home. Or letting her go at all on her nebula-spotting party. She’d nearly died in that damn cloud. He felt like he didn’t want to let her out of his sight again, and yet even though she was back she was missing again. He guessed she was probably okay wherever she was, he was just worried about how she was doing, _mentally_. It was just so unlike her to just disappear. It’s not like she even had anywhere to go. The SGC was her whole life. She never did follow his order at getting a life. Pretty much the one order Major Carter never followed in her entire career, he chuckled to himself. He wanted to find her and tell her how much he respected and admired her. Hell, he wanted to scoop her up in his arms and- with a grin at the image- kiss her. He wouldn’t mind if her getting a life outside the SGC meant getting a life _with him_. He felt like the footage had given him a glimpse of that well-guarded side of her, and he was just, truth be told, in love with it. With her. All of her. And he had been for years. And he wanted to tell her that the next chance he got, he decided with a last swig of his umpteenth beer of the night. No more brushes with death and regrets and deathbed vigils without her knowing how he felt about her. He couldn’t do it anymore. He was done. He just had to wait for her to come back.

**5 Days later, Present Day**

_*Buzz*_

Jack’s beer sloshes out the bottleneck spectacularly in his effort to grab the phone balanced on the couch arm. His attempt to save the rest of the precious liquid results in a clatter as the phone hits the wooden floor, falling face up. His eyes widen as they catch the text message laid out across the screen.

_“CARTER”_  
_“Hi Sir, so sorry for not messaging you back all week. I’m on my way back after stopping in Denv-”_

Heart finally quelled, he decides to nurse the rest of his beer, noticing and savouring its comforting, bitter taste for the first time this week. One sip later, the bottle is empty and the beer haze lessens enough for her text message to sink in. Carter’s back!! 

He jolts upright on his couch to bend down and grab his dropped phone as swiftly as his damn knees will allow him and read the rest of the text message.

_“Hi Sir, so sorry for not messaging you back all week. I’m on my way back after stopping in Denver. I know I probably worried you guys, I’m sorry, I stayed at Mark’s for a few days. I just needed to clear my head. I’ll be back home tonight.  
Carter”_

Why would she have stopped in Denver on her way back from San Diego, he ponders, plus it’s only an hour away from here. Then, shrugging, he decides to hop in the shower and have his first shave this week. He was going to see Carter tonight! He guesses she probably doesn’t want to see him, but hell, he just wants, no _needs_ to see her. He needs to push the image of that worn out, exhausted and injured Carter that has been robbing him of sleep and sanity all week. And the only way he can do that is by seeing the real her, alive and well, tonight!

\------

A little over two hours later, all freshened up and wearing his least-battered flannel shirt and feeling buzzed (more so from anticipation than the multiple beers he’s consumed already), he pulls up his truck outside her house. Relief hits him when he spots her bike parked out front and her lights on. He’d driven past her house several times each night hoping to see if her lights were on signalling her return home.

He rings the doorbell before checking his watch. D’oh, he thinks, it’s almost 11pm! He hadn’t even realised how late it had gotten. He thinks it’s probably rude to be disturbing her after what was probably a long day of biking, but now the familiar sound of her footsteps can be heard and the door opens revealing a beaming Carter. God, he thinks, she is the most stunning woman in the entire galaxy. Sporting still-windblown hair, a neat tank tee appropriate for the warm summer’s night, and legs shapely wrapped in her leather riding pants… it’s all he can do to stop himself from uttering a ‘Wow!’.

“Sir!” she says, beckoning him in and closing the door behind him. “I wasn’t expecting you! Sorry the place is a mess, I just got back-”

Jack just marvels at her in silence. He doesn’t know what staying at her brother’s could possibly have done but he doesn’t care. His bright, bubbly Carter is back, and the heavy weight that’s been pressing on his heart since first losing contact with the Prometheus almost three weeks ago is finally lifted. He can barely take in what she’s babbling on about, she could be talking about quarks or reciting one of Daniel’s stuffy archaeology books for all he cared, the sound of her cheery voice is so healing. Her persona is such a stark contrast to the brooding, quiet and most definitely not-his-Carter who had returned from the Prometheus. That Carter hadn’t even bothered to hide her annoyance at having been confined to the infirmary for a full week prior to her release. That Carter had dodged most questions, barely eaten, and had flat-out refused a psych evaluation- not that he’d blamed her. He’s always hated shrinks. 

“Sir,” she starts, interrupting his thoughts. He urges his brain to focus on what she’s saying, and not think about how sexy she looks in those riding pants. “Is the General mad at me? I saw the missed calls. I know I should have had my phone on, I just- I just needed to get away from it all and work through some things, you know?”

“We get it Carter, you’ve been through a particularly rough experience, and we have, like, the craziest job in the world. We’re all bound to go wacko at some point-” her eyebrow raised- “I mean, you know lose it a bit,” he corrects. “I know I did years ago…” and for that he gets a giggle from her which he thinks is the most divine sound he’s ever heard. “And no, of course he’s not mad, Carter,” he adds, suddenly recalling her first question. “None of us are mad, just worried about you.”

“I know, and thank you,” she says, smiling. “I’m really grateful to you guys. I’m fine, now.”

“You stayed at your brother’s?”

“Yeah,” she said, sitting down, the sight of her legs in the now stretched snug leather pants stirring things in his own pants...

He clears his throat, hoping she hadn't caught him staring.

“You rode all the way to San Diego on your bike, after Frasier specifically said no driving?” he asks to continue the conversation.

“Yeah, I know,” she answered sheepishly. “Though technically I was riding, not driving,” she grins in comeback. 

“Smartass,” and Jack grins right back at her. Yup, his Carter’s back, for sure, he thinks. 

The realisation that they are now alone together, off-duty, in her house comes creeping over him. He feels his heart quicken, that he has to create a moment to be able to tell her how he feels. NOW. No regrets, no excuses. He’s doing it tonight.

_“Why do we always wait until it’s too late to tell people how we really feel about them?”_

Her words echo in his ears. She’s right. It’s a cliche, and he hates cliches, but he can’t face almost losing her over and over. It was killing him. Damn this never-ending war. Damn the regs. Just damn all of it. He just can’t face seeing her die, just like he almost did on the video, without her knowing how he feels about her.

Taking a deep breath to build his confidence, he makes a bold move to sit directly next to her on her couch, legs parallel, and turns his head to look right into her unguarded breathtaking blue eyes. She’s sparkling. She’s alive. She’s absolutely beautiful.

“Carter,” he begins, making a move to reach out for the hand resting gently on her thigh. He's pleased to see she doesn’t resist. “I have to tell you-”

_*Ding Dong*_

‘Oh for cryin’ out loud!’ He snatches back his hand and shuffles over subtly widening the distance between. 

“Late night pizza snack, Carter?” he quips, doing his best to sound jovial and nonplussed at the very rude interruption.

“It might be Daniel,” she replies, looking rather flushed. “I texted him I was back, too.” 

Of course it would be Daniel. Classic mood-breaking, cock-blocking spacemonkey would of course make sure to show up right at the absolute worst moment. 

He watches as Carter leaves the living room to make her way to her front door, leaving him scowling on the couch.

_*Buzz*_

The lighting up of her phone on the couch distracts him from his resentful thoughts of Daniel. He can’t help but look at the screen. He guesses it’ll probably be Mark checking she’s got back home safely. Or maybe she’d messaged Janet. 

_“+186456789…”_  
_“Sam dinner with you tonight was amazing. So glad Mark hooked us up. Gotta say you’re the hottest blind date I’ve-” ___

__What.the.actual.fuck._ _

__His heart lurches in disgust while the rest of his body is paralyzed in disbelief. He simply stares at the phone for a few seconds while his stunned brain catches up. Wait, a date? Carter went on a date? Tonight? What the hell?!_ _

__He hears the front door opening and Daniel’s cheery voice greeting Carter. The urge to open and read the rest of the text is just overwhelming. Spurred on by leftover adrenaline from his near-confession and leftover beer in his system and just sheer dumb and totally inappropriate curiosity, he ‘accidentally’ clicks enter and the unlocked phone displays the rest of the message._ _

__His eyes scan the words fast. He feels like he’s about to be sick. Soppy words? _Babe_? Who says this trash? He’s signed it with kisses. Kisses!? Wait, what if they had they actually kissed? Surely Carter wouldn’t kiss a man on a first date, would she? But he doesn’t even know. He realizes that he doesn’t know anything about this side of her. So, she must come straight here from Denver from a dinner date? No wonder she’d been so cheery. Shit. And he’d been about to confess to her how he felt about her! He feels so utterly stupid, and feels the taste of vomit in his throat. That heavy feeling is back, pressing down on his heart. He has to leave. But then the realization that she’d see the message was read hits him and he panics. Carter would surely know how to make the text look ‘unread’. Hell, Carter can blow up a friggin’ star. But Jack being utterly clueless with technology makes the snap call military decision to immediately obliterate all evidence of wrongdoing and taps ‘delete’, replacing the phone in its original position a split-second before a beaming Carter and Daniel come into the room, chattering away animatedly._ _

__‘Guess Carter does always follow orders after all,' he thinks, before escaping back to his empty house to set to work on emptying his fridge of all the remaining beer in a feeble attempt at filling his now empty heart._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say brace yourselves!
> 
> I'm so sorry! I swear my brain wanted a fluffy ending but this was what my muse forced me at gunpoint to write! 
> 
> Just one more thing I wanted to add: I think Jack is an incredibly honourable man, I'm sure he goes home and later deeply regrets his action at deleting the text message. His heart had just been broken, and he simply panicked.  
> We all know Pete is a clingy potato, he calls her when he doesn't get a reply to her text and obviously they get together despite Jack's interference *cue barfing*
> 
> Thank you for reading, please don't hate me! I can't write AU...
> 
> [Edit] I’ve now re-written an alternative and even angstier storyline of this, entitled “Don’t Look Back”, but it eventually has a HAPPY ending: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28290996/chapters/69325095

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Don't Look Back](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28290996) by [samsg1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/samsg1/pseuds/samsg1)




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